


i could stare at your back (all day)

by kindred_aquarian



Series: and they were *roommates* [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Cuddling, Dreams, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluff without Plot, Getting Together, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, Hell Trauma, Idiots in Love, Liam Dunbar is Theo Raeken's Anchor, Liam Dunbar is a Softie, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Post Series, Post-Season/Series 06, Sharing a Bed, Tenderness, Theo Raeken Has Feelings, Theo Raeken Needs a Hug, Theo Raeken is Liam Dunbar's Anchor, Theo Raeken's Past, Thiam, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fluff and feelings, i am spiraling, i'm soft af, its great, so like........at what point am i obligated to take out the one shot tag from this, this has spiraled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-01-25 23:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindred_aquarian/pseuds/kindred_aquarian
Summary: Theo breathes in too, and shifts closer; his almost imperceptibly light touch at the back of Liam’s neck knocks the air from the beta's lungs in a shuddering exhale. Theo, to his credit, pretends not to notice. He gathers up Liam’s hair and begins to comb.Or, the one that started out as a oneshot where Liam gets his hair washed and Theo gets thoroughly kissed and it's all incredibly soft (TM) and spiraled out into a hoot and a half of feelings and Thiam nonsense(ya i listened to "pink in the night" by mitski on repeat for like 45 minutes straight while I wrote this, wanna come find out if it shows?)
Relationships: Liam Dunbar & Theo Raeken, Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Series: and they were *roommates* [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733476
Comments: 48
Kudos: 349





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> come get y'all's juice

The insistent red glow on the digital clock in Liam’s bedroom reads 1:47 AM, casting a tinted glow through the room as Liam stands in front of the bathroom mirror across the hall. He’s angling himself this way and that in the bright, bathroom lighting to get a better look, tugging at the matted mess of dried blood and dirty hair at the back of his head where he was knocked out halfway through the fight (which was really embarrassing, thank you very much. _Really_. Theo laughed at Liam the whole way home, and he’s seriously considering knocking himself out again right now to avoid more teasing.) 

Of course, the wound itself is healed by now, but with each yanking at his bloodstained mess of long hair, the lines of Liam’s pained grimace run deeper. His head aches, his arms _ache_; he’s been at this since he and Theo got back to Liam’s house nearly _an hour_ ago, and he’s _still _nowhere. Liam had jumped down out of the passenger’s seat the second the wheels halted in a mess of limbs, insisting that _no, _he _did not _need a_ ‘helmet’ _or a_ ‘boo-boo ice pack’, _or _anything _like Theo had been snarking about all across Beacon Hills… 

_ But now,  _ Liam admits with a sigh and a longing glance at the pajamas he’s laid out next to his bath towel as his tired arms flop down to his sides,  _ he might need some assistance _ .

As if on cue, Liam hears the shower faucet from the downstairs bathroom squeak as it’s turned off. After a few beats, the sound of the opening door followed by the soft thudding of Theo’s footsteps on the stairs brings the soft shadowed outline of the boy himself into view at the top of the landing. Liam turns to watch him; his hair is damp, and he’s changed into an old, borrowed t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He looks _annoyingly _comfortable and refreshed, and with each step closer Liam can make out the glimmer of amusement in his green eyes at Liam’s current state. _Asshole_. Liam turns back to the mirror, raising his arms once more to continue working at his tangled hair.

After a moment, Theo’s reflection moves into the mirror in the doorway behind him. Some unreadable expression passes his face briefly before the smirk is back; he clicks his tongue and steps into the bathroom, sighing and muttering something vaguely insulting under his breath as he knocks Liam’s hands aside and replaces them with his own. An indignant and unflattering squawk escapes Liam’s throat, and he almost shoves Theo and his smug-ass face away on principle. But, well, he  _ was  _ going to have to ask for help anyway. Besides, Theo’s somehow already making progress on his hair, and it  _ is _ ass-o-clock in the morning by now, isn’t it?

The two boys settle and stand quietly while Theo works, and Liam studies Theo’s reflection in the glass. He’s intently focused in on a particularly bloody patch at the crown of Liam’s head. Theo frowns, furrowing his brow, and gently tugs at a piece of hair with one hand, holding Liam’s head steady with the other. Liam takes in the lines in the skin between Theo’s eyebrows above his nose, and suddenly he very much wants to smooth them away with his thumb.  _ He doesn’t _ . Instead, he makes himself busy eye-balling a map of the line from Theo’s nose down and over the planes of his face. He’s not quite done yet, just declaring a capital tucked in the delicate curve at the right-hand corner of his lips when Theo’s eyes flicker up to lock on his in the mirror.  _ Oops. _

_ “I think we’re gonna have to rinse out the blood before it’ll come unmatted,”  _ his voice crackles softly, breaking the silence of the otherwise empty house,  _ “c’mere”. _

Theo grabs the stool next to the tub and places it in front of the sink, then guides Liam by the hair down to it. He turns on the faucet, and then disappears from Liam’s view for a second while he grabs the shampoo and conditioner from the shower.

Liam closes his eyes and singles out the sound of Theo’s heartbeat over the water rushing behind him, and then Theo’s back; the steady rhythm a promise of his proximity as he leans over Liam and begins to work out the dried blood.

He’s being so gentle, fingernails lightly scratching Liam’s scalp and moving down each strand of hair with such close attention that Liam gets curious. He opens his eyes to steal a glimpse of the boy, and startles to find Theo’s already looking at him from above, fingers stuttering their movement through Liam’s hair as though he’s just been caught. It’s at this precise moment that the reality of the situation occurs to Liam—this is  _ Theo _ , the big, bad chimera. Theo, with the strong and beautiful hands, so careful and absolute in the destruction they’ve carried out; this is the boy who was raised by monsters that carved him out into an instrument of their murderous design—Not that he’s any of those bad things anymore, of course. He’s a snarky, annoying shit <strike>sometimes</strike>, and Liam suspects  _ (kinda hopes, really)  _ that he always will be. But he’s saved Liam’s life and proven himself to the pack a million times over. He’s  _ different now _ , in a way that aches inside Liam’s chest when he’s not around, and smolders there low and bright when he is.

Now, he sleeps in the spare bed next to Liam’s. Now, he picks Liam up from Lacrosse, and drives the both of them to pack meetings.  _ Now _ , Theo burns kettle corn in the microwave on purpose; he cooks it for 2 minutes and  _ 45 _ seconds  _ (he says it’s better that way _ — _ but only with kettle corn _ ,  _ not for regular popcorn) _ , and airdrops Liam memes at 2 in the morning… and  _ right now  _ he’s standing over Liam at the bathroom sink, with those hands still in Liam’s hair and his eyes still frozen on Liam’s. Liam thinks he looks uncharacteristically vulnerable, like he’s afraid Liam will tell him to stop.  _ (He doesn’t. … Maybe today’s the day that Liam burns.) _

Liam doesn’t know how long he’s been staring, he just knows it’s been too long, and he can see Theo tensing, preparing for an imagined attack. So Liam, ever the quick thinker and master of diffusion, smiles up at Theo and gives him two thumbs up before letting his eyes fall shut once more. Theo laughs out the breath he’d been holding, and it takes a minute, but it works. Theo’s fingers resume their ministrations, and Liam doesn’t need to open his eyes again to know what’s on the other boy’s face.  _ Relief. Safety. Security. _

  
  


It isn’t much longer before the lingering, sharp tinged smell of blood is gone down the drain, and Theo turns off the sink before stepping away. Liam opens his eyes just as Theo throws Liam’s towel at him, and he catches it, wrapping his hair as he gets up.

He still needs to shower the rest of him,  _ eventually _ , he thinks,  _ probably in the morning _ . Liam’s so absolutely exhausted, and so sleepy from the feeling of Theo’s fingertips on his scalp; he barely even registers Theo’s words over his own yawn.

_ “So what now, pretty princess? You want me to braid your hair for you?”  _ Theo teases with a smirk, one eyebrow raised.

Liam’s response is automatic, as he fights through another yawn. _ “Oh gee, since you’re offering, I do look great in dutch braids.” _

There’s a beat of silence, Liam finishes yawning and looks over at Theo just as the chimera rolls his eyes. He turns over his shoulder with a huff, headed for the bedroom across the hall.

Liam shrugs and turns back to the mirror, grabbing his toothbrush. As he scrubs at his teeth, he lets the wolf out just enough to get his fangs as well. He’s not entirely sure he  _ has _ to, though.  _ Does the whole ‘werewolf super-healing’ thing cover dental? Better safe than sorry, I guess. _ From across the hall, Theo huffs again, and Liam spits into the sink and whirls around, questioning.

He stops. Theo’s sitting in the dark on Liam’s bed with a comb and two hair ties, looking rather put out:  _ “Are you coming or not? Some of us have work tomorrow, Dunbar.” _

_ ...Hm. Well, _

_ “Uh. Yeah! Just like, give me a minute.” _

He grabs the shorts and old jersey he’s laid out, and shuts the bathroom door to change. He wills his own heartbeat steady, eyeing his reflection.  _ Chill. Don’t be weird _ .  _ Stop being weird. _

When he reemerges from the bathroom, Theo’s still there, right in the middle of Liam’s mattress with his legs crossed, balancing the comb on one knee, and the hair ties on the other, barely illuminated by the red glow of the clock, and the moonlight coming in through the window. He scoots over when Liam approaches, eyelashes long and black in the shadows, and Liam is decidedly very weird and  _ not chill _ . He sits down awkwardly in front of Theo, turning his back to the boy and moving his damp hair back behind his shoulders… and he waits.

It’s painfully silent.

Liam can feel the weight of Theo’s stare burning through his back, and his stomach flips of its own volition; he wants to bolt  _ so badly _ . He forces himself to remain still. When several long seconds tick by without any sign of movement from Theo, Liam gears up to tell him to  _ never mind, forget it, it was a dumb joke _ . Just as he takes the breath to say it, though, Theo breathes in too, and shifts closer; his almost imperceptibly light touch at the back of Liam’s neck knocks the air from the beta's lungs in a shuddering exhale. Theo, to his credit, pretends not to notice. He gathers up Liam’s hair and begins to comb.

Liam’s eyes flutter shut almost immediately—which should be embarrassing, but somehow feels okay, if Theo can’t see it. All the awkward tension seems to have dissipated the instant Theo touched him—he’s so incredibly comfortable he could actually fall asleep sitting up here, surrounded by the warmth and familiar mixed scent of Theo and his own room. And he wants to, _so badly,_ but he knows he’ll never hear the end of it from Theo if he does.

So, as Theo sections his long, brown hair into two halves and begins the first braid at the front left of Liam’s head, Liam asks:

_ “Where’d you even learn to braid hair? S’ not like yours is long enough.” _

Theo’s fingers freeze mid-braid, and Liam’s wide awake again. He senses that he fucked up; he feels it in the way Theo’s tensing up again, ready to run. Liam  _ hates it _ —he needs to fix it, somehow—

He whirls around over his right shoulder, the half-braided portion of his hair falling from Theo’s hands, eyes wide, and he positively  _ rambles _ .

_ “I mean! Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I think braiding is really cool! I mean hello, it’s the 21st century _ — _ guys can have long hair and style it how they want, and historically speaking, braids have always been gender neutral and they have really interesting roots in social art and culture, I _ — _ I mean look at me! Right now _ — _ look at what we’re doing! I really,  _ really _ like this, I just mean it’s not like… like _ — _ ” _

His hair is falling out of the braid, bit by bit, as he shakes his head for emphasis; and after a moment of surprise at Liam’s speech, the guarded glint in Theo’s eye flickers out; he watches Liam sputter for a moment before  _ mercifully _ holding up a hand to stop him. Theo places the hand over his own heart, pressing it there like the force is the only thing holding it inside his chest. He scratches, absentmindedly, and when he speaks, it’s so quiet that Liam holds his breath.

_ “No, it’s _ ..  _ I, um… She taught me. Tara. I used to do it before.” _

_ Oh. Shit. Of course. _

He’s trying to play it off, but Liam’s well versed in Theo’s brand of empty, deflective smiles. Theo  _ always _ scratches his chest like that whenever he’s feeling anxious—or guilty.

So, this time Liam doesn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching him—he rushes to cover Theo’s hand with his own where it sits on his chest, stopping the motion.

_ “Sorry,”  _ Liam squeezes Theo’s hand before he can think better of it.  _ “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean _ — you don’t have to— _ ” _

He falls silent again when Theo looks up from where their hands are connected, but he doesn’t pull away. Theo’s looking at Liam  _ like… like.. he doesn’t even know what. _

The chimera swallows thickly, and very slowly, wordlessly, lifts both of their hands together off of his chest. He turns his palm to face out and press against Liam’s before using the momentum and his other hand to gently pull Liam’s right shoulder and coax him to turn back around. Theo sucks in a breath that catches in Liam’s chest, and then he  _ so,  _ so _ very carefully _ combs his fingers through Liam’s hair, just once, before letting the sides of his hands rest lightly on both sides of the top of Liam’s back. The contact sends a shiver down his spine.

Theo murmurs, low and certain, _“It's fine, Liam. I want to.”_

And so, he does.

They both sit there quietly while Theo braids Liam’s hair, and Liam stares at the wall thinking. Their steady heartbeats indicate the passage of time; it's not enough, but also  _ almost too much,  _ as Liam wills each second to stretch further into the night. He imagines himself etching this night into his memory, the feeling of Theo’s hands in his hair...  _ when will he ever get this again? _

After Theo’s finished tying the elastic around the second braid, his hands fall back to rest on his shoulders again. Neither of them moves at first.  _ He’s thinking,  _ and Liam feels Theo studying him in his way of heartbeats measured, chemosignals accounted for and filed neatly into piles of "dangerous" and "not dangerous", (and then it  _ is  _ too much.)

Liam breaks first. He turns back over his shoulder and grins widely at Theo. It's genuine, for sure, but still; Liam squirms inside under all of that intensity radiating out from Theo, from the moment he's breaking, even as it takes root in his stomach like a living creature. Liam's pulling the braids forward and drawing a breath to ask Theo how it looks, to make a joke, to do_ something_. Just then, Theo awakens, resolute, and surges forward, touching Liam's face. The living creature sings inside of Liam when Theo  _kisses him _and… _(Oh,)_

the unspoken words die quickly on his lips like old stars, rushing out across Theo’s mouth with a sigh; Liam's entire heart erupts into flames. ( …) His pulse beats loud in his ears and he turns around fully, to get closer. As he slides his fingers up his chest to tangle in Theo’s hair, he could almost cry; Theo’s  _ so warm and alive  _ against Liam’s skin, his hearbeat wild under Liam’s hands—but then Theo’s  _ pulling away _ — _ hey, why the fuck is he pulling away? _

Instinctively, Liam chases after him, swinging his legs over Theo’s hips—practically sitting in his lap now; he’s about to dive in again, but Theo doesn’t go far. He just stops, his eyes shut tight, and leaves one hand still on the beta’s face as he leans his forehead against Liam’s. His other hand comes back up to his own chest and  _ presses, presses, presses _ , and Liam’s heart  _ absolutely breaks _ . He doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, so he takes Theo’s hand in his, brings it up between their lips and—his eyes never leaving Theo’s face—kisses it, softly,  _ again, and again, and again _ .  _ (Kiss me. Punch me. Talk to me. Breathe.) _

Theo’s eyes open slowly, glittering green in the dark from under his lashes, not yet meeting Liam’s gaze. He draws a large, shuddering breath, and squeezes Liam’s hand with his own _ . _ His lips are swollen, voice is wrecked, when he tells Liam,

_ “I shouldn't have let… I... I can’t have this. I don’t get this,”  _ another squeeze, a small shake of their hands clasped together, and the hand on Liam’s face moves back around him to rest on Liam’s back.

Theo continues,  _ ”After all the things I…  _ ” and a pause gives those unsaid words the space to do their worst.  _ ” It doesn’t matter what I want, Liam, not after everything, and what you’ve done for me. You deserve _ — _ ” _

Liam refuses to let him say ‘_someone better’_, _as if_ _there’s _anyone_ better than Theo._ _“I deserve what, Theo? And don’t fucking say what I think you were going to say because I swear to God, Theo I’ll kick your ass_—_”_

Theo finally brings his eyes up to Liam’s, moving his head back the slightest bit to face the boy head-on.  _ Everything’s _ right there on Theo’s face right now, his eyes pained, like it’s killing him when he says:  _ “You deserve to be happy.”  _

In response, Liam’s heart beats, three times (‘ _ So do you! So do you! So do you!’) and now he might  _ actually _ cry. _

He blinks, understanding.

_ “But… just to be clear, you  _ do _ want this?” _

Theo flushes, visible pink color creeping up his neck and settling high on his ears, despite the dark, and he shifts, jostling Liam slightly in his lap.

_ “Jesus Christ, Liam, do you want it in writing? Yes! Of course I do.” _

And that's all Liam needs to hear before he  _ slowly, slowly _ slides his hands up to rest on Theo’s shoulders; he leans into him, bringing his mouth close to the reddened shell of his ear, and whispers

_ “Then let me  _ kiss _ you, Theo.” _

Theo shivers, his hand tightening a hold on the back of Liam’s shirt, and tilts his head to the right ever so slightly, welcoming the brush of Liam’s nose nuzzling at the side of his neck. As he repositions himself onto his knees in Theo’s lap, Theo’s wolf makes a noise in his throat, and Liam’s lips follow it, wet against the skin there. He gasps at the sensation, and Liam smiles and inhales into Theo’s neck before continuing on, lazily trailing his kiss over every inch of warm skin. As he reaches Theo’s jaw, he starts peppering kisses all over his face, anywhere Theo will allow (which, as it turns out, is  _ everywhere _ ) just because he  _ can _ .

Liam kisses his cheek _(and, experimentally, gives it a lick for good measure. He's rewarded with a surprised laugh from Theo, and an incredibly rude comment concerning his canine status). _By the time Liam reaches his temple, he realizes he loves Theo, which particularly informs the frankly excessive line of pecks from his forehead down to the tip of his nose—’well,  _ if Theo hasn’t been loved, then I’ve got a lot of making up to do, don’t I?’  _ Liam thinks, pausing above his lips, leaning back to examine the look on Theo's face.

_ “What, ‘re you done now?”  _ Theo asks, low-lidded and looking up at Liam like he’s just hung the moon.

Liam laughs. Not _ even close,  _ he thinks as he leans down to meet Theo’s lips.


	2. (and again, and again, and again)

_ ‘This can’t be real,’  _ the paranoid, bitter part of Theo scrambles for purchase inside Theo’s consciousness (which, currently, is otherwise  _ filled  _ with Liam—his mouth, his scent, his  _ hands _ ). ‘ _ No way this will last...’  _ it tries again, but then Liam swipes a trembling thumb over Theo’s cheekbone and Theo decides that  _ if he really is dreaming, or dying, or already back in hell about to have this all taken from him, _ then he’s gonna enjoy it while he still can.

So, he tells the voice to fuck off and surrenders it all over to the boy in his lap. He moves the hand on Liam’s back up, gliding over a _truly sinful _amount of muscle to rest under his shirt. The skin under Theo’s palm is deliciously warm; Theo drags his nails lightly across it, and Liam goes pliant, whining softly, pressing forward into Theo’s chest. He winds his arms around Theo’s neck and pulls him in closer, desperate for contact.

Theo’s smiles against Liam’s lips at the boy’s sweet urgency, lazily twirling a single braid around his left hand, and sliding it through his fingertips in a motion as fluid as the line between Theo’s ending and Liam’s beginning. He pulls back from Liam’s lips for air, and marvels at Liam’s face, blissful and dark-eyed in the half-light. He gives the braid still trapped between his index and middle fingers a gentle tug, and Liam’s head falls to the side without hesitation, lips parted. Theo eagerly attaches himself to his neck with a satisfied  _ hmm _ that thrums against Liam’s skin.

He’s pressing open kisses along the beta’s throat, earnestly returning Liam’s favor as though he’ll be able to translate it; like it’ll make him understand  _ exactly  _ what Theo means to say in the praises scattered across Liam’s expanse:  _ ‘beautiful… wonderful… courageous. Kind…’  _ he exhales hot breath there like a prayer, rejoicing in the goosebumps that arise. ‘... _ so good to me.’  _

Liam makes  _ that sound _ again and Theo drags his teeth along the prominent muscle at his throat. He nips at Liam’s ear, growling low, and Liam gasps.

Liam pulls back panting, hand tight on Theo’s bicep, to show him his eyes as they glow gold in the dark. He looks  _ so completely undone _ —Theo’s eyes flash back in response—as they sit there, Liam’s hand on Theo’s arm, other hand interlocking with Theo’s between them.

A silence follows, although it isn’t unwelcome, and Liam doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly pulls Theo’s hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it, inhaling Theo’s scent at the wrist. Finally, Liam leans forward and puts his forehead against Theo’s as he sighs contentedly, eyes closed. Such a strong wave of peace washes over him where they connect that Theo isn’t  _ entirely  _ sure it’s not a weird werewolf thing. Normally, the mere thought of anyone trying to get inside of his head like that would make Theo get murder-y... but it’s not  _ anyone _ . It’s  _ Liam.  _ So, he allows himself the indulgence. Another pause.  _ He still hasn’t disappeared. _

_ “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”  _ Theo says quietly—catches the braided strands of Liam’s hair once more in his hand—pulling back slowly from their embrace.

Liam clings to Theo’s hand, instinctively, pulling him back with a start. 

_ “Stay!”  _ Liam blurts out. Then, sheepishly, loosens his grasp and adds,  _ “I—you have to sleep too. And you should. Here. With me. If you want, I mean.”  _ He drops his eyes from Theo’s, worries his lower lip, and the intimacy of it all makes Theo ache.  _ When’s he going to disappear?  _ His pulse drums through Theo’s hand.

_ “... Yeah,”  _ Theo says—squeezing Liam’s hand lightly before letting go—and that’s all he can manage; the rest sticks in his dry throat at the sight of Liam’s wet lip re-emerging from his mouth in a smile, his gaze returning. (‘ _ I want to.’) _

Liam crawls out of Theo’s lap, scooting back without turning away like _he’s _afraid that _Theo_ will vanish. He nestles down on the left side (he _always sleeps on the left side of the bed_) under the covers, leaning back on his elbows. But Theo still hasn’t moved, and _that won’t do_, so Liam lifts his right hand to reach out a single grabby-hand at him.

The motion astounds a laugh from Theo and he moves with it. Gingerly, he moves up the bed, trying not to jostle Liam too much as he lies down on his stomach, head turned towards Liam. He reaches out and takes Liam’s right hand, still outstretched, and lets their joined hands fall to rest on the mattress between their heads.

_ It should be weirder than it is, _ Theo thinks,  _ going to sleep in the same bed like this _ , still buzzing electric inside from Liam’s touch as they lie there and watch one another in the dark. Theo hasn’t fallen asleep with  _ anyone _ like this since… since long before the Dread Doctors. Theo blinks the memory away before it can push its way to the surface, still tracing his eyes along the lines of Liam’s face on the pillow next to him.

Liam’s wearing that look like he always does while he’s puzzling something out—like there are tiny gears turning up there, behind those eyes. There’s no regret in them, so at least Theo knows he’s probably not getting kicked out of bed any time soon.  _ (Probably.)  _ If anything, he looks a little insecure, so Theo decides to level the playing field.

He turns until he’s lying on his left side, facing Liam, chest unguarded. Immediately, he feels the lack of soft mattress against his chest like an imminent threat, waiting until Theo drops his guard to strike: the space unbearably vulnerable. Before he can will his body otherwise, his pulse spikes, tiny prickles of panic slipping through Theo’s dam of control. Liam must notice; he blinks, first confusion, then _worry_ tingeing his expression. Liam’s fingers twitch, like he wants to pull at his hair in nervousness. He doesn’t. _If this really is all a trick, _Theo considers, _this would be quite the opportunity to take everything away. _Theo waits.

Still, after a few deep breaths in and out, things are quiet.  _ The ground doesn’t open up and swallow him, he doesn’t hear the sounds of dripping water, Tara's raspy voice calling out… _ Theo and Liam’s hands are still connected on the bed between them. So, before Theo can think better of it, he takes a deep breath and pulls Liam’s hand close to his chest, holding it to his heart, the stolen life beating swiftly under Liam’s palm. He blinks again.

Liam moves carefully—like he’s trying not to frighten a deer—as he slides himself closer to Theo under the covers. Their knees brush for a moment as he gets comfortable, and he pauses. He looks up and searches Theo’s eyes for a confirmation, and then slowly brings his arm around Theo’s body. It settles there protectively, and Liam scoots even closer to tuck his head under Theo’s chin.

_“s’ better?” _Liam asks_, _muffled by Theo’s chest and the soft blankets cushioning them. He yawns, a gentle puff of breath against Theo’s hand on top of Liam’s on his chest, and Theo can't be certain he won't cry _right then and there_ if he tries to speak. So instead, he strokes a thumb against Liam's bare arm, he hums _m__m-hmm, _as he leans down to press a kiss to Liam’s hair, nodding. It _is_ better, as much as that voice in Theo's head howls and scratches to deny it, and the crushing vulnerability of _ this. _

It isn't long before Liam's touch wanes the fear—_hellish echoes of his own ribs breaking, Tara crying_—in his head, and Theo drifts off despite himself, grounded in the tide of Liam’s even and soft breathing, coming _again, and again, (and again.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro im straight up about 2 cry rn......................tendere.............


	3. Chapter 3

_...and Theo drifts off despite himself, grounded in the tide of Liam’s even and soft breathing, coming again, and again, (and again.)_

* * *

__  
_His parents’ room is dark when Theo pads quietly in, on the night after his 7th birthday. The worn blue blanket he pulls behind him catches on the doorframe as he rounds the corner and Theo calls out quietly: “Mom? Dad?”__  
_

__

_ His mother stirs, on the side of the bed closest to the door (she always was a light sleeper) and turns over to face him, groggy with sleep. _

_ “Yes baby? What happened, bad dream?” _

_ Theo shifts on his feet, feeling guilty for waking her. _

_ “No…” he says, small, “I can’t sleep.” _

_ She holds out an arm to him, motioning him to come closer. “I bet it was all the sugar in that birthday cake, huh? It’s been a long, exciting day.” _ — _ and it had been _ — _ his parents had thrown a party at their house, and invited everyone in Theo’s class.  _

_ His cake had blue frosting that stained all their mouths, and then they made-believe Theo’s cat was a pokemon and chased poor Sprinkles around until Tara got mad and rescued him by picking him up and making Theo apologize. She always babied Sprinkles; she was the one who named him when they found him hiding in a box next to the bakery beside their dad’s office. She had argued it made sense to name him ‘Sprinkles’ after the small colorful pieces of sugar adorning his matted fur, and since she saw him first _ —and  _ she convinced their parents to let them keep him _ — _ she got to pick the name. But still… Theo had put up a pretty good fight for calling him ‘Cupcake.’ _

_ Now—hours after the sun’s dipped low in the sky and everyone’s gone home—Theo walks into his mother’s outstretched hand, letting her pet his hair and brush his nose with her pointer finger. He asks, _

_ “Mommy, will I get birthday parties in Heaven when I die?” _

_ Theo’s mother lets out a surprised noise like a laugh before her hand comes up again to touch his cheek and turn his face up to look at her. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to worry about that! Not for a very very long time. ...Besides, you can have anything you want in Heaven.” _

_ For a moment, Theo stands silently pondering this, and then his mother scoots closer to the middle of the bed, tapping the space next to her for Theo to come up. He does, trailing his blanket behind him, and placing it over the both of them as he settles in the crook of his mother’s arm. _

_ “We can have  _ tons and tons _ of birthday parties  _ now _ , Theo… okay?” she soothes, tucking him in as he nods and yawns. “You want to talk about it some more? What brought this on?” _

_ Theo, filled with the sleepy warmth of his blanket cocoon, sleepily replies, “Nothing... it's okay. I just want to make sure I can plan ahead. Can we go to laser tag for my next birthday?” _

_ “We’ll see… Goodnight, birthday boy. I love you.” _

* * *

Theo’s wakes up  _ warm _ , the morning light streaming in from the window working with the fading memory of the dream to pull him gently awake.  _ (Theo also discovers he’s been crying in his sleep, when he opens his eyes, but a quick glance down at Liam _ — _ still sleeping _ — _ lets him know he’s clear to wipe the lingering tears away without being caught.) _

Both of them moved in sleep, so that Liam’s lying half on top of Theo, left arm splayed across his chest, with his fingers loosely curled into the fabric of Theo’s shirt. His left knee is bent, wedged in between Theo’s legs, and he’s  _ definitely  _ taking up at least 70% of the bed, but Theo can’t complain. His head is on Theo’s chest, his right arm sandwiched between Theo’s left arm and his own body, and his hair tickles Theo’s face, where tufts of it have poked out of the braids in sleep.

Liam looks so peaceful that Theo briefly considers just…  _ not  _ waking him up. Fuck Theo’s shitty mechanic job, fuck getting up and being productive, and even fuck whatever happens when Liam  _ does  _ eventually wake up and they have to…  _ talk  _ about this...

It’s not that Theo doesn’t  _ know  _ what he wants. He made that  _ abundantly clear last night, _ he thinks. It’s the _ ‘knowing how to ask for it’  _ and also the  _ ‘taking it, if it's offered somehow, without suffocating under the massive guilt of everything he’s ever done’  _ part that he’s grappling with _ .  _ He wants this,  _ so bad _ . He wants Liam’s dumbass face drooling all over him in the morning like he is now, wants to kiss his stupid head when his brain’s going a mile a minute, wants to anchor him and protect him all the time,  _ he wants… he wants…  _ Theo’s stomach growls, and he sighs.

_ He wants… food. _

Theo lifts one hand off the bed, bringing it around to carefully brush a stray hair from Liam’s eyes. He allows himself a moment more, memorizing the way the tension’s been leached from Liam’s body in sleep, like he really could be just a normal boy who  _ doesn’t  _ spend every day carrying the weight of what Scott McCall can’t carry on his own... Like Theo could pretend he hasn’t  _ been  _ that weight.  _ Guilt  _ pulls at Theo, deep in the pit of his stomach, and he bites the inside of his cheek. He pulls himself together. Theo starts poking Liam in the cheek with a single index finger, repeatedly.

_ “Liam.”  _ he says. Liam stirs only  _ just _ enough to shove Theo’s finger out of his face with a groan before he snuggles deeper into Theo’s chest. Theo’s heart skips, heat rising to his cheeks, and he can’t help feeling like he doesn’t deserve to feel it.

He swallows the feeling down and tries again, poking Liam with more vigor, wiggling underneath Liam for added emphasis.  _ “Hey. Liam. Wolfy McDumbass. Rise and shine, I’m hungry.” _

Liam wakes with a deep inhale, stretches, and picks his head up groggily. He turns and props his chin on his forearms, crossing both of them over Theo’s chest and gazing down at him. He tilts his head, furrowing his brows and frowning, and Theo thinks he  _ might  _ be trying to look menacing, but it falls short—more into the “cute, scruffy puppy” category—given that he’s still got a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth, and how the morning sun is hitting his messy hair, turning it golden in the light.  _ Fuck. _

_ “Y’know,”  _ Liam arches a brow, then it falters when he yawns directly into Theo’s face,  _ “I could totally punch you right now.” _

_ “Yeah…” right.  _ Theo smiles and then takes in a breath. Theo stretches, languid beneath him, sliding his hands up Liam’s back under his shirt, already halfway ridden up his torso,  _ “but you’d better shower first. You smell.”  _ Theo teases, slapping Liam’s back as he moves to get up.His hands halfheartedly attempt to shove Liam off, but Liam remains perched steadily on top of him, unfazed.

_ “Hey... Call out of work.”  _ Liam blinks slowly, voice still low from sleep, as a grin spreads across his face. This time Theo’s the one to raise a brow; his hands falter where they had previously been soothing small circles over Liam’s back of their own accord. Theo feels heat rising in the tips of his ears again, under the gentle weight of Liam’s stare.  _ Damn it. _

_ “You trying to get me _ fired _ , Dunbar?”  _

_ “No, asshole!”  _ Liam blushes back,  _ “We just—you just didn’t get much sleep last night. I mean, we... went to bed late.” _

_ “And who’s fault is that?”  _

_ “Hey! You _ — _ ”  _ Liam objects, scandalized, and he lowers his voice to a whisper:  _ “...you kissed me first!” _

Suddenly, the reality of their current position—the perfect weight of Liam’s body on him, the adoring look in his eye—occurs to Theo, and well. _Yes_. He _did_, in fact, kiss Liam first. He’s thinking about doing it again, actually, but then Liam’s stomach growls, and Theo knows he only has a limited amount of time left to get some food in both of them before _one of them_ gets cranky. Still, he can’t resist a smirk as he opens his mouth push his luck, to tease Liam just a _little bit more—_

_ “'Hey' is for horses, Li—” _

_“Shut up.” _Liam cuts him off, deadpan: _“and come eat breakfast.” _Liam rolls off of Theo and stands, ankles cracking softly against the floor. He takes one step, and pauses. He stands next to the bed, facing away from Theo. _“But... seriously, Theo,” _His voice is soft, filled with that weight again. He hesitates, and when he speaks again, he sounds lighter, but Theo can still hear the emotion lying beneath.

“ _ ...call out of work.”  _ Theo’s heart flips, and he  _ knows  _ Liam hears it.

Liam turns over his shoulder to look at him, smirking, and he continues:  _ “You look like shit.” _

Theo scoffs, rolling his eyes. He stretches deeply until his joints pop, then laughs out a sigh.

_“Nah, that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in years.” _Theo drawls easily, eyes sliding shut. Then his brain catches up to him, and he suppresses a cringe at the implications of his admission. Theo’s lying there, tangled in Liam’s sheets like he _belongs_ there. And when he opens his eyes again_, _Liam’s standing still and watching Theo_—_eyes unabashedly admiring him_—like maybe he _does _belong there__._

And,  _ okay _ , maybe Theo likes it,  _ a lot _ . So, he stretches again, letting the bottom of his shirt ride up, and _ —there it is— _ the way Liam’s eyes immediately rove over the sliver of exposed skin there sends a thrill through him. 

_ “Like what you see, Dunbar?”  _ he purrs, tilting his head at Liam, challenging.

_ “Yeah.”  _ Liam replies, honestly.  _ “I do.” _

(And,  _ okay,  _ Theo definitely  _ wasn’t expecting that. _ ) While his brain is busy short-circuiting, Liam _ — _ looking entirely satisfied with the reaction _ — _ leaves Theo in the bed, calling  _ “I’m making pancakes”  _ over his shoulder as heads down the stairs.

Theo pulls a pillow over his face and catches Liam's scent there before he buries his face into it and lets out an embarrassed groan. (Liam hears it, of _course—thank you, werewolf super-hearing—_and Theo catches his laughter from the downstairs kitchen.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he he ha ha ho ho sorry I keep adding chapters and then stretching the number of anticipated chapters and THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT but like.........I'm into it


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY HERE IT IS, BUCKLE UP EVERYBODY
> 
> (come bother me about thiam/teen wolf @kindred-aquarian on tumblr or kindredaquarian on twitter;)))) )

Liam Dunbar stands in front of the kitchen sink, staring out the window in front of him. It’s 7:25 AM by the stovetop clock, and Liam watches the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon and stirring the world outside slowly to life. He sits in the silence of the house as it wraps around his breathing, his heartbeat, and the softer sound of Theo’s upstairs. The note from his father on the fridge lets Liam know that the hospital called him back in right as he got home, and he’d be back around noon. He’s signed the note with a  _ ’Love you’ _ , and  _ ‘remember your mom’s train gets in at 4:30 today, family dinner tonight’ _ , and Liam knows by now that the phrase  _ ‘family dinner’ _ has grown to imply Theo’s welcome. His chest warms at the thought, his eyes still half-lit up with laughter at the boy in question. The consequent (and  _ incredibly distracting _ ) image of Theo stretching out in Liam’s bed burns low and possessive within him, and his heart lurches.

So, Liam just  _ stands  _ there in front of the kitchen sink, looking out the window at his reflection in the glass. He doesn’t look any different than yesterday,  _ aside from the braids _ , he thinks, clutching an unopened package of chocolate chips.

But he  _ kissed Theo. And liked it. A lot.  _ And, if he’s being honest with himself, Liam kinda knew he would, if _ (when) _ it came down to it. He knew kissing Theo would change everything—because  _ Theo  _ changed everything. For Liam. For the pack. Theo  _ changed _ .

Then, a... _ less pleasant _ thought crosses Liam’s mind, about what would have happened if Theo hadn’t been given the  _ chance  _ to change. If Liam had never  _ known  _ him like… if they’d left Theo in the ground—or worse—put him  _ back in _ , like Liam had threatened to multiple times before he…  _ Fuck.  _ Liam hates the way that the hot  _ shame  _ that unfurls within him _ at the idea of it  _ gets to him so easily _ . He’s burned by the memory; that wild look in Theo’s eyes, the unadulterated fear as he begged Scott to grab his hand… the sight of the dirt and dust from the cold cement caking Theo’s hands and wedging beneath his nails, the way he kept raking for purchase against the crumbling earth in vain… the desperate way he turned to Liam just before he went under, and how the utterance of mercy from Liam came too little, too late... Liam took too long to decide Theo was worthy of saving, and Theo knew it well; it was the last thing he knew before hell swallowed him fucking whole. _

Liam bears the weight of the memories, guilt tearing a hole in him  _ just like…  _ and there it is.

Liam hates _himself _for how quickly the shame’s turned to anger, burning in his chest:_ he’s angry_ _at himself, at the hopelessly permanent way of the past, at the Dread Doctors, and for every other bad thing that’s ever happened to Theo—_

The bag that Liam had been holding bursts open, sending bits of semi-sweet chocolate flying out across the kitchen, and Liam curses. He wants to  _ fucking hit  _ something. Maybe someone should hit  _ him _ .  _ Maybe Theo and everyone else in Beacon Hills would be better off if... _

Liam stops, and unfurls his hand from the death grip he holds on the burst bag— _ another casualty of Liam’s anger _ —and grimaces. After putting aside what’s still salvageable there, Liam drops down to the tile floor to collect the spilled pieces. He counts the chocolate chips as he goes,  _ slowly, mindfully, like his therapist told him to when he first got diagnosed _ . If Liam’s honest, it kinda does help to quell the rage bubbling up inside him, even as his heart still pounds in his chest. He counts,  _ and counts again _ , and slowly the tension begins to leave his body.

By the time Liam stands back up, he’s back in control. And as for the lingering shame turning his stomach… well. He’ll buy a new bag of chocolate chips later for his parents, and  _ it’s fine, Liam, _ and…  _ as for Theo... _ Liam gets down to the hard work of combining the pancake mix with water before emptying the chocolate chip bag into the bowl. As he methodically makes each pancake, depositing it onto a plate before making the next, he thinks about Theo. In his bed. Who kissed him. A lot. And slept there. With Liam. and  _ kissed  _ him _ . Really well.  _ Jesus _ . _

Liam burns the last pancake on that note, and hastily turns off the burner before grabbing orange juice out of the fridge, two cups, cutlery, and maple syrup. He stands there for a moment holding it all, listening for the sound of Theo coming down the stairs. But there’s nothing.

Then suddenly, there’s the muffled sound of Theo on the phone, a short back-and-forth and a coughing fit that could  _ probably  _ sound genuine, if Liam were anyone else. As it happens, though, Liam is  _ not  _ anyone else.) Liam smiles, his feet drawing him closer to the sound of Theo’s voice and carrying him up the stairs.

Liam hesitates outside the door, pancakes wafting a delicious warm scent that threatens to give him away. He stands, listening as Theo ends the call with  _ the best fake sneeze Liam’s ever heard _ —he sometimes forgets how practiced of an actor Theo is—and he stifles a laugh despite himself. Clearly, it does nothing to conceal his location; Theo calls out,  _ “Stop lurking, dumbass, I can hear you standing there. I’m part werewolf remember?” _

Liam huffs, swinging around the corner of the doorframe to reveal the breakfast collected up in his arms.  _ “Well how’s your nose then?”  _ He gestures the pancake plate at Theo, nearly sloshing orange juice on his carpet in the process. “ _ Need me to re-set it for you so you can smell these delicious fuckin pancakes properly?” _

Liam was at least  _ attempting  _ to pack some of their usual bantering heat into the threat, as if goading Theo into their well-worn rhythm of bickering jokes would ease all of the unbearable  _ newness  _ between them… but Theo just laughs, and quiets, and Liam feels stuck. He looks so soft, and a little bit relieved; he’s sitting with one leg dangling off of the bed and the other folded under the covers in his lap. Theo’s foot is swinging lazily, head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and a small smile curls his lips as he looks at Liam  _ like that _ again. Liam’s heart jumps, and Theo’s eyes flicker to his chest momentarily.

A moment passes, and Liam’s stomach growls once again, which signals him to move closer and spread out the food on the nightstand next to Theo. Liam grabs a plate and piles several pancakes on it before crawling over Theo to sit beside him, chewing before his butt even hits the bed. He reaches over Theo again, his mouth full, to grab the bowl of strawberries and grapes he brought up with him, and places it in the middle of the bed in front of them both.

Theo raises a brow once again at Liam, but he’s already reaching for a pancake plate as well, so it isn’t very effective.

The two boys eat in a companionable silence and watch the morning light as it reaches the corners of the room. It’s filled with a history of Liam—with sports trophies and well-worn history books holding up piles of school notes and papers that Liam’s been _ ‘saving to study later’ _ since the sixth grade, the tiny, child-size crutches from when Liam sprained an ankle playing soccer at recess in the third grade. Small dust motes float in the spaces between. As neatly hectic as the space is, Theo’s grown to love it like Liam loves museums—he loves to witness them, sees the  _ life  _ breathing within them. 

The morning moves so slowly like this—in no time at all Liam’s cleaned his plate and he sits with his head propped sideways on his hand, elbow on his left knee, staring unabashedly at Theo as he finishes eating.

There’s a tiny smear of melted chocolate chip at the corner of Theo’s mouth, and Theo brushes it off with his own thumb before he licks the finger clean. Liam thinks it should be kinda gross, but he  _ can’t stop thinking about Theo’s tongue _ , so it’s really  _ really  _ not. It’s so domestic, and such an intimate gesture to let Liam witness—and Theo  _ knows that he’s watching him _ — that he just… just… 

_ “You kissed me.”  _

The words tumble out before Liam can stop them. Theo pauses his chewing and turns towards Liam, rolling his eyes.

_ “Yes, Liam. I was there.” _

Liam scoffs as Theo resumes his chewing, pretending to be unfazed even as color tinges the tips of his ears. A goofy grin spreads over Liam’s face at the sight, and the way Theo’s heart jumps in spite of himself. He bites his lower lip, still grinning, and continues:

_ “Hey. I like you.”  _ and then he adds, _ “a lot.”  _ and Theo swallows.

_ “Well I sure hope so, the way you had your tongue down my throat.” _

Liam snorts.  _ “You’re such an asshole, it was not ‘ _ down your throat.’ _ ” _

_ “It was,”  _ Theo fires back, and Liam opens his mouth to protest, but Theo cuts him off. “but _ … you  _ like  _ me,”  _ Now Theo’s smiling too, despite himself—one of the rare, big toothy ones that Liam fucking  _ lives for _ — like he’s actually so happy he can’t keep it wrapped under that cool, handsome, and collected facade. 

Theo moves, deftly stacking the dishes on the nightstand and then turning back to Liam, sitting on his knees and looking at Liam with a reckless glint in his eye.

_ “so, what if I like you too, Dunbar? What if I really want to kiss you again? What if I’m not enough of a good guy to not be selfish about wanting you?” _

Liam’s stomach flutters, though his heart pangs for the way Theo’s self loathing permeates even this.  _ Then _ , Liam thinks of the chocolate chips,  _ he supposes he’s not one to judge _ , and he’s  _ definitely  _ not one to leave Theo hanging.

_ “Well,” _

He sits up, stretching out his legs with a grin he hopes looks easy and totally cool. Liam shifts himself down to lay against the pillows, arm folded under his head to get a better look at Theo:  _ “then I guess you’d better get over here and do it,  _ Raeken _ .” _

When Theo climbs on top of him, laughing, Liam sees  _ forever— _ and  _ he  _ feels like the selfish one for the way sees his life contained in that single split-second—filled with wanting Theo like this _ : with the late morning sun at his temple, casting shadows and halos of light around him like the whole world knows to kiss him there, in celebration, in adoration well-deserved.  _ He craves the warm way that Theo flows so easily, when it’s just the two of them… and  _ he’s happy _ .

And then there’s no more time to wax embarrassing poetic; Theo makes himself comfortable lying on top of Liam, tangling their legs together, leans in, and then hesitates at Liam’s lips with a sudden gentleness _ .  _ Theo gives him  _ just one, sweet, unhurried kiss,  _ and then he’s pulling back a bit, his head propped on one hand above Liam.

He wets his lower lip _ —beautiful— _ and looks at Liam  _ like that, _ and says “ _ thank you… for breakfast” _ in a tone so soft that Liam’s stunned silent, afraid to break this thing between them. But Theo’s always known when to pull Liam in and just run with it, and now is no exception _ — _ he dips back down to kiss Liam properly, and of course Liam follows.

Theo sighs when they connect, and  _ wow, Liam could get used to that. _ Liam feels Theo smile widely against his lips, and then he brings one warm  _ (if a little syrup-sticky)  _ hand up to touch Liam’s cheek. For a moment, Liam briefly considers pulling back to watch him some more _ (and even  _ more  _ briefly considers turning his head to kiss the syrup from Theo’s fingers),  _ but then Theo laughs like he’s read Liam’s mind, so Liam chases that sound instead. He smiles back into the kiss, teeth clacking against Theo’s.

_ “You’re so...”  _ Liam breathes into the shared space between them, the air hot and damp with a sentiment that Liam can’t measure in words. So he moves again, captures Theo’s lower lip between his teeth and splays his left hand out against Theo’s hip. Liam uses the leverage, gripping the skin where his shirt has ridden up slightly, to flip them. Liam slides his hand up further along Theo’s bare side as he follows his movement closely, stopping only for a moment when Theo pushes the ruched-up shirt the rest of the way off. Theo falls back against Liam’s pillows, lips full, with a pink blush creeping up his chest and over his neck. He raises his eyebrows as Liam sits straddling his hips, and waits a moment for Liam to finish his thought. All Liam can do currently is run his hands up over that chest and across his lips and  _ stare _ , though, so Theo teases:

_ “Wow, eloquent as always. Maybe you should buy me dinner before you get any more clothing off of me.” _

Liam blushes back, and murmurs  _ “shut up, I made breakfast,”  _ into Theo’s skin as he leans forward and kisses Theo’s lips once again, long _ .  _ Then, Liam moves again _ — _ down to kiss Theo’s jaw, his neck, his shoulder _ — _ on a meandering journey to meet Liam’s own hands where they rest on Theo’s chest.

Breathless, he shifts his body down so that he’s laying half on top of Theo again and lays his head sideways over Theo’s chest, just like he had in sleep the night before. Yearning for closeness, Liam wraps his arms around Theo’s middle, and he sighs contentedly as Theo grants it: his hands come up to smooth over Liam’s braided hair in repeated, calm motions.

The room is quiet again, where they lay tangled up in eachother _ — _ like this is the millionth time they’ve found themselves here, and not nearly the first. Theo slowly unwinds the braids from Liam’s hair and flings the two hair ties somewhere across the room with a dramatic flair that earns him a flick to the shoulder from Liam, on his chest. Theo feigns an even more dramatic injury, but he’s smiling too big for it to be convincing. Liam rolls his eyes, but he kisses the shoulder anyway,  _ just to be safe. _

Theo combs his fingers through Liam’s undone hair again and again. The clock ticks away, somewhere down the hallway. Liam listens in close to Theo’s heartbeat, his breathing, the clock down the hall, and starts to think.

He remembers the dirty dishes in the sink downstairs, the chocolate pieces in the trash can… his anger, all the messes he’s made, and the ones he’s cleaned up. Then, Theo yawns beneath him, and... Liam knows how to begin to pick up  _ those  _ pieces.  _ Shit. _

_ “Theo.”  _ Theo’s hands pause in Liam’s hair, listening.  _ “Can I talk about…”  _ he winces, and restarts:  _ “I really  _ really  _ don’t want to ruin this, but I just keep thinking I… it’s…”  _ Liam hesitates, that sudden burst of confidence in his own words having gone as quickly as it came. Theo pauses as if in consideration,  _ masking apprehension, _ Liam knows, but refrains from a usually-characteristic snarky remark. Theo moves his fingers encouragingly down from Liam’s head to glide over his back. He settles them there with two light taps— _ ‘I’m listening’—  _ and holds him. Liam can feel Theo’s patient gaze on the top of his head, so he breathes deep and pushes on:

_ Theo… I’m... really sorry. About the… about Kira’s sword,”  _ he rushes the words out, and Theo breathes in, sharp.  _ “—and the way I acted after. I should never have threatened to put you back there, after you… when we were… and I had the sword—” _

_ “Liam, stop, you don’t have to—”  _ Theo starts to interrupt, voice crackling from disuse, but Liam gently tightens his arms around Theo like an anchor, and keeps going:

_“Please,_ _Theo I... need to say this and there’s never going to be a good time to bring it up. And you deserve to hear it. So… ” _Liam loosens his grip, and leans up to look at Theo, his loose hair falling around his face in waves. He tells him, to his face:

_ “It was wrong, and stupid, and you should hate me for it, frankly. Since you don’t… hate me, though, I think,”  _ Theo rolls his eyes a bit at that, gesturing to where Theo’s arms are wrapped around Liam still… and the distraction’s humor falls flatly where it banks on the hope that Liam won’t look too closely.

Liam  _ is  _ looking, though. He scoots in, pressing impossibly closer, and continues: 

_ “I’m serious. I need you to understand that I’ve changed too. I would never ever fucking  _ ever  _ do anything to hurt you or threaten you like that now—even if I still had that stupid sword, even if I didn’t have feelings for you like I do. I’d shatter it all over again and again and again, Theo. You didn’t deserve to have that hanging over you… and you didn’t deserve it the first time, either. No matter what you did, we were  _ wrong _ to trap you down there, and we were really fucking wrong about  _ you _ . And I know you probably don’t believe me about it now, but I  _ mean it _ .” _

Liam punctuates the end of this with another gentle squeeze around Theo’s middle, and a firm nod, as he searches Theo’s eyes for a reaction. Theo just stares back, bewildered and  _ woefully unprepared _ for the way Liam’s just barreled straight into Theo’s fears like he charges into everything else—with that wholehearted courageousness, so strong where Theo’s been so fragile— _ the weight of all that truth _ reflected back on him like a mirror.

All of a sudden, looking right at Theo is too much, so Liam ducks his head down to lay over Theo’s heart once more. His fingers move to find a home in the fabric of Theo’s shirt as Theo’s heart thumps loudly underneath him.  _ This next bit feels dangerous…  _ but Theo still hasn’t interrupted. So Liam keeps going, voice lowered,

“...a_nd I also see how sometimes you forget to pretend it’s okay. You get all quiet and there’s this look on your face like… like you’re back _down there. _I hate it so much, Theo, when I think about how I _caused _it. How I didn’t stop it or save you, and then how I held it over your head like a goddamn bargaining chip, knowing how scared you were... and now you can’t even talk about it or maybe you just don’t want to—I just... I wish I could take it back. I care about you _so much_; I want to take that pain from you every single day when I wake up and look at you and know _I _hurt_ _you. Maybe I could if it were physical pain, I could try to make it right. But it’s… something else, underneath. So I… I can’t stop it. I don’t know what to do, but I’ll do anything if you just tell me. I’m sorry. Theo, I’m so sorry.”_

For a long, painfully silent moment, Liam doesn’t even  _ breathe. _ Neither does Theo, who’s gone completely still.

Finally, Theo takes in a breath, chemosignals flaring wildly and jumbled, and Liam thinks that maybe he’s made Theo angry (and fucked things up  _ royally _ )... but the sound catches at the end, and the trembling, watery exhalation that follows has Liam looking up at Theo in surprise.

Liam’s  _ never  _ seen  _ Theo  _ cry before _ —didn’t mean to make him— _ Liam’s stomach lurches with guilt. But there they are, Liam’s heart clenching in his chest with every frantic beat, and Theo’s fucking  _ crying _ . His eyes are shut tightly, squeezing silent tears from the corners that fall to the pillow on either side of his head. It’s not much to see _ ,  _ hardly a dramatic pace of wailing and sniffling, but it’s tearing Liam apart just the same.

He wants so badly to do something to help, but he doesn’t dare move: Theo’s left arm is still soundly around him, holding Liam to him like a lifeline, while the other rests by Liam’s head, pressed against his own chest. Occasionally, he lifts it and wipes at his own face, meticulously hunting down each runaway tear as it falls.

Theo cries, and Liam _ worries _ , but it isn’t very long before Theo takes a breath that feels more steady than the last, and then another, and on the third sigh he wipes away his tears for a final time. He moves to sit up, removing his arm from around Liam slowly, and Liam scrambles off of Theo to allow him to… to  _ what _ ?  _ Leave? Make  _ Liam  _ leave—? _

Theo crosses his legs on the bed facing Liam, and _ — _ before Liam can work himself up into a further panic _ — _ Theo reaches out to take his hand.

For a moment, he just studies it; he’s turning Liam’s hand over and over in both of his, tracing the skin over freckles and the lines in his palm, the smooth, unbroken skin where there should be scars from fights across his knuckles… Liam watches him, their joined hands, and Theo’s quiet for so long that Liam thinks he’s not going to say anything at all.

Eventually, though, he does.

_ “Liam,” _

Liam’s eyes snap up to look at Theo’s face, but he’s still looking down, swiping his thumb over the back of Liam’s hand again and again. Then he pauses, threads their fingers together, and drops his other hand to Liam’s knee.  _ “I’m never going to be like you. I can never make up for everything… I was  _ never  _ supposed to get to have someone like you in my life.” _

Theo looks up _ — _ eyes locking on Liam’s _ — _ honesty pouring out:  _ “You are… the best, strongest, most  _ infuriatingly  _ loveable and kind person I’ve ever known. Remember that night in the kitchen, a few days after I first started staying here?” _

Liam nods (and, in his head, corrects Theo:  _ ‘living  _ here _ ’,  _ although he decides to hold his tongue just this once. Instead, Liam says,)

_ “you kept having nightmares—” _

_ “Exactly.”  _ Theo interjects gently, squeezing Liam’s hand;  _ “all night, every night that week, until… that night. Then... it was less. And how many did I have last night?” _

Liam furrows his brow, like it’s a trick question.  _ “I… none? I think?” _

_ “Right. So, Liam…”  _ Theo lowers his gaze again.

_ “I have no idea why you saved me. Yeah sure, I was useful at the time or whatever, but I mean… I’d given you every reason to hate me, to not trust me, to want me dead and out of the way.  _ Mercy… _ being  _ saved….  _ getting  _ out of there  _ at all wasn’t in the cards for me after what I did, and I knew it. At least, I thought I knew it until you brought me back. And when you did?”  _ Theo’s eyelashes flutter, the Dread Doctors’ accusations of  _ failure  _ bouncing off the cold, damp walls in his mind.

_ “I just… couldn’t stop waiting to _ fail _ . For you to realize letting me live was a mistake and send me back. Right up until you broke the sword, it was crystal fucking clear that being saved by you and being safe were two different things. And then after, when everything settled down and I was just… there. When I was… y’know.” _

Liam breathes in deep, the subject of Theo’s previous homelessness reopening the wounds of the fight it took to get Theo to agree to stay at Liam’s.

“I had contented myself with the first part, being saved, and I thought maybe the constant running and nightmares were just part of the deal. It was already more than I ever should have gotten, anyway.”

Liam must bristle noticeably at this; Theo gives a small, sad, endeared smile.

“ _ But _ ,” Theo stresses gently, squeezing Liam’s knee for emphasis,  _ “that first week, that  _ night _ in the kitchen, you showed me more. You showed me  _ safety. _ ” _

Then the smile fades.  _ “And yeah, the nightmares suck, and they’ll probably never really stop.” Theo swallows thickly, his gaze shifting downward once more. _

_ “But... I started making my bed long before I met you, long before what I did to the pack, what happened with Kira’s sword… and for all of that time I was alone. Not safe. Not saved.”  _ He pauses, letting the weight of the words fill the silence between them. Liam whines lightly in the back of his throat without meaning to, and leans in almost imperceptibly. Theo looks up.

_ “What I’m getting at is… because of you, I’m not alone anymore.”  _ Theo closes his eyes as Liam presses forward the rest of the way to lean his forehead against Theo’s; Liam’s hair brushing Theo’s cheek and moving lightly when Liam exhales at the contact.

_ “Whether you think I deserve it or not, I wasn’t supposed to get to see the sun again. Nobody was ever going to give me somewhere to sleep, or trust me, kiss me and make me breakfast in bed… until you. I wasn’t supposed to get to  _ feel _ —”  _ Theo trails off, pulling back enough to bring Liam’s captured hand up in his, kissing Liam’s knuckles before moving the hand downward to press against Theo’s heart.  _ “Liam, you gave me a fighting,  _ second- _ second chance at life. You give me safety, you give me shelter in more ways than one… You make me want to fight—for myself, for you, for the world. You’ve taken so much weight from my shoulders, just by being who you are, and then you give me the strength to bear the rest and I… Liam… You  _ do  _ make it better. You make  _ me  _ better.” _

The vulnerability aches throughout the space of the room, radiating through both of the boys, as these last few words hang open and raw in the air.

One breath shudders a jagged line through the silence, and then Liam pulls Theo into him. He slides his arms up around Theo’s neck and nuzzles his face into the crook of it, chest pressed against Theo’s and blinking hot tears against Theo’s collarbone. Theo shakily sighs out the breath he’d been holding and returns the gesture, anchoring his arms around Liam’s frame and burying his face in Liam’s hair. They stay like that for a moment, unspoken understandings exchanged within the breaths they take, plastered against one another. Then, Liam rubs one last tear against Theo’s skin  _ (and not so subtly scents him, overtaken with a desperate need to mark Theo as family, as  _ loved _ )  _ and kisses him there. Several more light presses of lips to skin follow as Liam slowly pulls away enough to hold Theo’s face in both hands, before kissing Theo properly.

Lovingly, he loses himself in the sweetness lingering on Theo’s tongue, and Theo hums happily, skin thrumming in the sunlight under Liam’s fingertips as they move together _ .  _ There’s a piece of Liam’s soul tucked happily in that damned right hand corner of Theo’s lips now, and Liam surrenders it gladly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, is the mention of ~that night~ during the first week of Theo living with Liam a hint of my next WIP? hmmMMMMMM?????? ;-)


End file.
